Harry Potter: Drabbles & Ficlets
by lightningmouse
Summary: Drabbles :: A collection of Harry Potter based drabbles, the result of writing requests from friends. Featuring various characters or pairings, or not quite pairings and a few crack pairings, tyvm..
1. The Last Laugh

**The Last Laugh**

_Katie/George_

She smiles at him, the light in her eyes as she looks up at him one that outshines his own, even when he's just pulled the best prank ever, or so he thinks. She elbows him in the ribs, mutters something about how people will talk if he won't stop staring at her, and walks off, shaking her head in that way only girls can do. And he watches her as she walks off, taller than any girl and most boys on the team, all height and lean limbs as opposed to the curves he used to noticed on the other girls.

He never thought he'd get beaten at his own game - he knows only too well that this time, the joke is definitely on him.

But he doesn't mind, not one bit.


	2. Sunsets

**Sunsets**

_Penelope_

She's a Ravenclaw and she knows it. Prefect, top of her class and year. She's supposed to be able to spout fact and number off the top of her head, not even needing to think about it. Because that's what everyone expects her to be. Brainy Penny.

But her joy is in the paints, and her love is with the canvas they rest upon.

And when the sun sets, all she can think is of sneaking up to the top of the towers at Hogwarts, mixing pigments and setting brush to canvas.

Fact and number fade before the glory of colour.


	3. Madness

_Author's Note : Ha. One of those requests which I had no clue what to do with at the time, yet somehow, ended up making the requester quite happy._

**Madness**

_Marcus/Dennis_

The boy drives you mad.

He's too young, and silly, and doesn't know when to shut up, as proven when the Death Eater next to you raises his hand suddenly, fingers curling into a fist slowly, enjoying the boy's terrified expression as he finally goes silent. His eyes never turn to you, not once. The idiot thing is a Gryffindor through and through, and you snarl to yourself even as your cohort laughs, a low grating sound you instantly hate with every particle of your soul.

So you move closer to your erstwhile partner and catch his arm, breaking it as easily as one might break a twig. The look of surprise in both their eyes make you smile and laugh, almost cheerfully as you draw your own fist back, ignoring the pain from the brand in your arm, and smash it into your former companion's face with unforgiving harshness.

You reach for the boy and drag him quickly away and he lets you, still staring in blank surprise. He never expected you to step in. That feels good, for some reason.

Because the boy drove you mad, yes. But as such things go, it's a madness you never want to be cured of.


	4. Persistence

**Persistence**

_Remus/Sirius_

For the third time in as many days, he's asked you to be his friend. You don't understand, but for once you think maybe it's safe to do so. You've always been good at listening, and not once have you heard that either he or his companions in crime are inclined to be cruel. They play pranks and get in a lot of trouble yes, but they stick together, too. They always stick together.

He laughs at something as he saunters over to you, negligently pushing aside your parchment - charms homework no less. You note that despite the seeming carelessness of the gesture, the still wet ink remains pristine and unmarred, the paper's edge untorn. He calls something out to his friends as they leave, and they call out mockingly at whatever it is he said, leaving the two of you alone. Even though your hearing is superb, you didn't hear a word of it - he was smiling at you cheerfully. Only at you, for that very brief moment, you tell yourself.

And even though werewolves are supposed to be loners, you think maybe, just maybe, you don't have to be quite so alone anymore.


	5. Moments in Time

**Moments in time**

_James/Lily_

There are moments of Grace in one's life, beyond words or deeds, and this is such a moment. Your son sleeps peacefully as you look down upon him in his crib and you lean into your husband's side, sighing in contentment as he wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head gently. For this brief moment, you feel warm and safe, safer than you have in what seems like so very long. It's been a long road to get to this point, and you worry that it might be cut short anytime. Darkness has been nipping at your heels, getting closer every day - and the precious new addition to your family brings the precariousness of your situation to light all the more harshly. You sign wearily, trembling faintly as your son shifts and smiles in his sleep.

So very small and innocent. So very defenseless. So very loved.

There is a knock at the door. With one final smile for you and a gentle caress on your cheek, your beloved leaves the nursery to answer.


	6. Reflections

**Reflections**

_Ron/Hermione_

You hide behind your pile of books and stare at him from across the classroom, ignoring the teacher's demonstration which involves several props and much fussing about with them. You wonder, far less idly than you used too, when he'll be ready. You wonder when you'll be able to tell him, finally tell him, and know he'll believe you. No doubts. No worries and no hesitations. Just believe, with all his heart, that you really do love him, and no one else.

You hope the time comes soon, because your heart is set to explode with how badly you just want to hold him and tell him that to you there is no one else. That he doesn't need to be anyone else. Boiling temper and flashing eyes. Bright red hair and eyes shining with joy. Freckles you've never stopped trying to count and endless loyalty to those he loves. Bravery and jealousy alike.

You love him when he calls you bookworm and tells you that you study too much. You love him when he leaps to your defense without a second though - or third or fourth, really. You love him when he's making an utter ass of himself, or calling you names. And you love him most when he's being himself, rather than trying to be something he thinks he should be, and twisting himself up so badly in the process that you want to hit him upside the head and lock him up in a room until he comes to his sense.

Idiot boy.

So maybe one day, you'll get to tell him. One day, you promise yourself, you will - even if he's not ready. Because you are, and you're not sure you can wait much longer.

And you look back down to your book, never noticing the look of utter wonder etched on his face as he stares into a mirror the teacher is using as a prop, in the front of the classroom.

Staring right at your reflection.


	7. Keeping Balance

**Keeping balance**

_Ron/Hermione/Harry_

You walk outside the castle doors and head towards the lake. He carries a pile of books for her, red hair flaming brightly in the sun, and she smiles at him brightly even as she hits him on the shoulder for something he's just said. A quick mischievous glance towards you reveals that it was as you suspected - all on purpose, to get that very reaction from her. He earns himself a second sound thump for that, and she smiles at you as well, knowing what he'd been doing all along. You laugh at them both, heart fit to burst with an emotion you still can't quite dare to name, as they join you, the three of you alternately leaning on each other for support in your merriment. Just as you've leaned on each other for countless other reasons, before.

You know there have been hidden looks of late, aimed towards the three of you. His parents showing gentle worry. Your teachers shaking their heads as though waiting for the time when everything will come apart. Hers, seen far more rarely, exchanging sad looks with each other, but still not knowing what to do or say.

But you know better. Even though not one of you has said anything out loud yet, you all know. A knowing that comes from having been through darkness and despair, and never having been torn apart, despite everything and anything that was thrown your way. Bone deep, anchored in your hearts and souls, flesh and blood. The others just don't understand yet. But that's all right. All that matters is that you do. All three of you. And you smile serenely at each other, knowing what the answer has been all along, in spite of the whispers and the worries of others.

Because obviously, there was never a choice to make at all.

You'll always stay together.


	8. Heights

_Author's Note : For the lewd mirror lady. You know who you are. :)_

**Heights**

_Blaise Zabini_

He hates heights. Always has. Always will. It is the one constant in his life, the one thing he knows will never change.

Floating high above the Quidditch pitch, knuckles chalk white against the smooth dark wood of the broom, he tries to control his breathing. Hyperventilating this far up would not be good . Bad thought, steer away from that, he orders himself, breathing ragged for only a few instants, until he gets it under control once more.

It's a constant fight. But he goes up again, each and every time. And wonders why.

He forgot long ago that for a moment, the hat thought to sort him in Gryffindor.


	9. Wishful Thinking

**Wishful thinking**

_Sort of Dean/Seamus_

He wishes he were as brave as Seamus. And he hopes that courage does take different forms, and that maybe he'll find his own one day. And he draws Ginny when others are around, because drawing Ginny is safe, and expected of him.

But when no one is there to watch, he finds himself tracing out Seamus' features on a blank piece of paper, with only his fingers to stroke the paths, and his memory to remember the drawing.

And he knows they are the very best he has ever drawn.


	10. Shades of Green

**Shades of green**

_HP - Bill/Harry_

It all comes down to his eyes. After hours spent in dusty old tombs that smell of death and decay, and flying over endless dusty and dry deserts, the verdant green of his eyes remind him of an oasis. Endless and cool, letting you tumble inside, never wanting to come out again.

His mother is going to kill him, when she finds out. But he reckons it's worth it, really. And he learned to live for the moment and love as though there might not be a tomorrow, long ago.

He only wishes Harry had not learned that lesson already, as well.


	11. Cause and Effect

**Cause and effect**

_Marcus/Oliver_

Each taunt is met with that same infuriating calm smile, every insult with a casual shrug. Every hostile action is neatly evaded, any attempt at drawing him in a fight somehow avoided. And how all of this is achieved, he never quite knows.

But.

On the Quidditch field, things aren't the same. Here instead, every action draws a glorious, equal reaction. And he loves to play even more on those days where the opportunity to merge love and hate together blend so very well. And he still can't see that there is a very thin line, between the two – and that it has, in fact, been nonexistent for a while now, having shifted entirely to one side somewhere deep within his heart, without him ever noticing.


	12. Because

**Because**

_Luna/Remus (unrequited/unspoken on Luna's part, more like)_

She knows what they call her, behind her back and sometimes not much so. She knows that the best way to deal with things is to simply carry on, head held high, and ignore the whispers and mockery, and the way her things seem to disappear now and then. It's not every student that can claim to have the absolute knowledge that you mean everything to your parent.

And that's why, perhaps, she lingers sometimes after class, unnoticed in the shadows in the back of the room, and wonders how it must have been for him after he was bitten. Because if anyone must have needed that unshakable truth on his life, it had to be him, she thinks. And the tiredness and loneliness that is etched in every line of his face, every aspect of his posture only makes her want to reach out and touch him, just once. So he knows that he too is loved without reserve.


	13. Insight

**Insight**

_Percy Weasley_

He knows better than to think they'll ever understand. After all, they never have before, why should they now? Easier to be angry, to accuse and to condemn than to try and actually make any effort at all to open their eyes and see. To change years of habit, based on mockery and judging. He knows why they react the way they do. Knows their every motivation, feeling and thought, and sometimes it occurs to him that he knows them far better than they'll ever know him.

It is a bane to be different, in his family. And since as far as he can remember, they've never failed to let him know this. And he loves them despite everything that's been said as done, every word and insult and snub that has contributed to who he is today.

Because regardless of the fact that they believe him to be nothing at all, he knows who he is. He is Percy Weasley. And when the time comes, he shall not forsake his family, as they have forsaken him.


	14. Colors

**Colors**

_Seamus/Dean_

There are many colors that compose the soul of his love. Reds melding with vivid yellows on the surface, healthy and strong, reflecting joy and a zest for life that still takes his breath away, and draws him in wildly, fueling his own will to live. Shades of blue eddying slowly deep inside of him, yet strong and true, a thirst for knowing more about the people around him. And several others besides, all gleaming vividly, a palette that dazzles the eye.

But he also sees what the others fail to see.

All of these tints surround a streak of gold, pure and bright, the very core of his being. And Seamus often wonders what he possibly might have done to be so blessed with the love of one who walks in such Grace.


	15. Like calls to like

**Like calls to like...**

_Neville Longbottom_

Oh no. Dreaded moment, oh horrible, horrible realization. It was his birthday - and Great Uncle Algie was on the prowl. The braying laugh he heard from the hallway heralded his doom, and taking his best shot at escape, Neville peeled down the hallway towards the exit to the garden, determined to have at least one birthday which did not involve being thrown off the roof or out a window to assuage his relative's desire to see if he was a wizard or not.

It took him little time to trace the well worn path leading to the tentacula, and even less to scurry into the comforting and safe embrace of the waving vines, which wrapped around him and drew him behind a comforting screen of foliage as it wrapped itself around him protectively.

With a small sigh and a smile, Neville curled up within the green cocoon and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep, ignoring the cries of his uncle trying to flush him out of hiding. Under his hand, a withered leaf shivered, slowly turning from a mottled brown to a vivid shade of green.


	16. Will you be my Valentine?

**Will you be my Valentine?**

_Severus Snape, Marauder Era_

The shriek resounding through the potions dungeon drew startled looks from some of the students still remaining, although Severus wasted no time in scurrying out, notes and books clutched to his chest, narrowly avoiding being tripped yet again by that annoying Black. Indignant female cries chased after him down the hall, until he rounded a corner and leaned on the wall, allowing himself a short bark of laughter.

Well, if the chit was going to insist on mooning over him all the time, why shouldn't he be allowed to give her a Valentine's Day heart?

Of course, the fact that it was a still bloody rat's heart might have been a tad bit unexpected, he reflected, lips twisting into an amused smirk.


	17. Moments in Time 2

**Moments in Time 2**

_Peter Pettigrew, Marauders Era_

Peter stares at the boy walking among them, lost in the crowd of them all, yet indisputably alone. Sirius is saying something and James is muttering a hex under his voice, but Peter ignores them all, watching the lonely figure amidst the crowd of students, slim fingers handing on to a battered manual in white knuckled desperation which belies the apparently surface of calm.

Sirius catches his gaze and then shakes his head, slapping Peter's attention in an effort to deflect his attention elsewhere and James stops whatever trouble he's up to, cursing lowly thought without any real heart to it.

They've both been kind to him, really. Keeping some of the older Slytherins from bullying him, in a weird sort of proprietary way.

Peter looks at Remus, and the way he carefully avoids the group of scowling older Slytherins, as though their stares alone might break him, and thinks that not long ago, that was him, standing alone in a crowd of many.

"Oi!" His voice breaks over the laughter and the good-natured heckling of the students gathered in the stands, barely so, yet the lone boy's eyes turn in surprise, finding him in the crowd with startling accuracy. Peter can hear Sirius laughing quietly, face turned away so the boy won't see him, and he can see James smiling faintly, a quick peek taken from the corner of his eyes.

"Over here!" The boy hesitates, and Peter slaps down a hand on the seat where but moments ago, James' books were piled up high. "Free place. C'mon then, the match is about to start!"

After another moment's hesitation, the wan boy starts to pick his way through to them, pretending not to notice the way the Slytherins slink away, as though thwarted. He sits down, scars standing out suddenly where they were barely visible before, and then turns to give Peter a cautious, wary look.

"You're Remus, right?" It doesn't take long before both Sirius and James have completely overwhelmed the poor soul, and Peter sits back, content, herding the feeling of contentment close to his heart, as a dragon might a hoard of gold.

--

"I'm going to be a father." James stares into his drink, with the expression of a pole-axed bull, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "Me. A father. Lily's going to have a baby!"

Laughter greets those words, quiet and affectionate, and Arthur reaches out to slap the younger man's shoulder. "Indeed. You've a ways before you catch up with me though, I'll have you know."

The teasing remark draws a smirk from James, followed by a comical expression of dismay. "Bloody hell. If I try to make a competition of this Lily really _will_ kill me!" he breathes out, obviously desperately wanting to do so anyway.

Arthur snickers not so quietly, and then waves at the bartender, ordering another round without a second thought. "Oh, I think you may want to rethink any competition anyway. Did I tell you the news?"

Looking entirely self-satisfied, the older man leans back.

"My Molly's pregnant as well."

James raises both hands in the air, conceding instant defeat, and then promptly resumes his stunned expression, much to the entertainment of every other person in the bar, not that he's quite realized it yet, Arthur knows only too well.

But it will make for very nice photo album pictures, that, and he chuckles at the photographer and nods, grinning widely as the picture is taken.

--

The night is quiet now, the sounds of revelry having long ago faded, the happy couple gone to share their newfound wedded bliss in the quiet of their home. The honeymoon will wait for safer, happier times, but their home is well warded, days and months of painstaking work by the three now lying back in the field where the reception took place earlier, staring up at the stars.

"You're shining bright tonight, Padfoot."

Dark eyes stare upward, and a mouth curls in a small, pleased smile.

"Oh, he is! Look at that! And it's not even really his time, at that. Typical."

The last is said with deep amusement and the gaze is briefly transferred to the smaller man of the three, along with a stuck out tongue.

"_My_ star."

The words are said with deep satisfaction, and the two friends by his side chuckle lowly at his expression, the both of them shaking their heads, yet accepting his statement without the ghost of an argument.

Finally, the taller, thinner one of the three lifts a hand, the wand tucked in his sleeve lazily sliding into his hand with a flick of the wrist.

"To James and Lily."

The words are echoed, softly, with equal measures of hope and fondness, and the wands light up in lazy trails of sparks and lights, dancing around them as stars descended from the heavens.

Only one looks up then, and chances to see the brightest star in the sky suddenly fade and disappear from sight. Briefly troubled, he frowns, searching for it, until finally the two taller men regain his attention, as one of the sparks trails down to set his coat alight.

Every year since, on that exact date, Peter Pettigrew remembers seeing that star fade.

And he knows it was his fault, and no one else's.


	18. Cousins

**Cousins**

_Bellatrix and Regulus_

The spell curled around his arm like one of the black ribbons his cousin had favored during their childhood, viciously carving itself into his flesh, fire and acid and ice all wrapped into one. Regulus held his breath, eyes wide and body trembling, though he didn't scream once under the hungry eyes of the shades gathered about them, hovering nastily, waiting for the slightest crack to smile mockingly and belittle him.

Bellatrix smirked condescendingly to them all, knowing Regulus was used to pain, knowing he'd never crack under something as wonderful as the Dark Lord's Mark etching itself in his flesh, there to stay. Forever.

She had trained her cousin to know pain only too well, after all. And now he would do her proud.

Or else.


	19. Destiny

**Destiny**

_Harry Potter_

The colors were bright and sharp, so much so that he had to blink away tears from his eyes. Not from emotion, he told himself, but from how blazing everything suddenly was, in fierce and focused relief. Smoke poured from the train's wheels and engines, wafting about in a loud hissing curls of steam and Harry finally remembered to breathe, smiling with the all the wonder of a child.

All the wonder he'd never been allowed, before now.

The gold in his pockets jingled and sang out merrily as he stepped forward, with the inescapable sense of a mysterious and grand destiny unfolding before him. Nothing could have stopped him, at that very moment, from boarding that train.

Nothing in the world could have stopped him then.


End file.
